


My Cat Means More To Me Than You

by joy2live4you



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cats are good friends, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Friendship, Frumpkin is an Emotional Support Animal (Critical Role), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Paranoia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Esteem Issues, Social Anxiety, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26450086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joy2live4you/pseuds/joy2live4you
Summary: Alone and on the run, Caleb castsfind familiarfor the first time, gaining a lifelong companion in the form of the fey cat Frumpkin. Though Caleb can’t see it now, this is only the first of his many future friends.A story that follows the growing friendships between Caleb and the Mighty Nein, starting with Frumpkin.
Relationships: Frumpkin & Caleb Widogast, Frumpkin & The Mighty Nein, Nott | Veth Brenatto & Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Caleb Widogast
Comments: 32
Kudos: 115





	1. Welcome, Frumpkin!

**Author's Note:**

> Cats are good friends. Frumpkin is the best cat. Therefore he is the best friend. 
> 
> I know that Caleb is not yet called Caleb at this point in time, but for the purposes of this fic he will be referred to as Caleb.

The cat stared at him. He stared back. Its eyes were yellow. 

Caleb reached out a careful hand toward it, and slowly touched the top of its head. Soft. Warm. The cat meowed softly and he nearly jumped at the noise, yanking his hand back and returning to the silent staring contest of before. The cat lifted a paw to its face and closed its eyes as it began licking it thoroughly, seemingly disinterested in the man who had summoned it. 

“Ah, hallo. You are my familiar, ja?” Caleb asked. He knew that it had to be—that he had performed the summoning ritual flawlessly—yet he could not help but feel some level of uncertainty when faced with the solid, living creature in front of him. It almost felt unreal, that the animal in front of him was a companion that would obey his every word.

The cat glanced up at him, then placed its paw back on the dirty barn flooring before trotting over to him and pushing its furry little head into his palm. Caleb chuckled, stroking along its velvet ears and giving them a good scratch. “You are a good cat. I think we will be friends.” 

“Mrrrrow.” 

“Yes. A very good cat.” He considered it for a moment. While not very similar in appearance to the fluffy orange of his childhood cat, having short fur marked with brown spots, its affectionate nuzzles and purrs brought him back to that happier time. One where he used to sit reading with his mother’s cat on his lap. “I think I will call you Frumpkin.”

The cat climbed into his lap, purring loudly as it pushed its head under Caleb’s chin. Caleb laughed (this was probably the most he had laughed in the past twelve years). “You like that, ja?” he said, wrapping his arms around it and leaning down to kiss the top of its head. He stayed there for a moment with his lips pressed to its fur, surprised to find his eyes wet. He knew he should not be getting so attached to his familiar (a tool, nothing more. He summoned it because it might be useful, don’t be _so weak)_ so quickly after meeting it for the first time, but it had been so long since he had something actually want to be around him. Affection with no strings attached.

Sighing, he pulled back to regard Frumpkin, now kneading biscuits into his worn pant leg. “You are supposed to do whatever I tell you, ja?” No response, except for the continual pricking of sharp claws into his leg. He winced. “Go stand over there,” he said, indicating a spot next to the discarded copper pot with his chin. Immediately, Frumpkin stepped from his lap and trotted over to the spot, glancing back to Caleb when the job was done. “Ah, well I suppose the spell worked fine. You act just like a cat, it is hard to believe you are actually a little fey creature.”

“Mraaa.” Frumpkin turned his back to him and began to clean between his legs.

Caleb laughed. “Or, I suppose it is not too hard to believe.”

* * *

The weight around his shoulders was strange but not unwelcome. A constant source of warmth and comforting pressure that assured him his companion was there as Caleb slinked through alleyways and along the edges of the town streets. Caleb had found himself feeling a wave of cheerfulness since he had summoned Frumpkin. It was an almost foreign sensation after all this time, and he was just waiting for it to crash and burn. In the meantime, however, he couldn’t help but enjoy it. He reached up to give Frumpkin a scritch on the chin.

“We are looking for a book shop, ja? Keep your eyes out for me,” he muttered softly, ducking his head when a passerby gave him a strange look. Showing his face in public always made his perpetual anxiety worse—he knew that there was little chance he would be found here, many miles from Rexxentrum, but the need to look over his shoulder was constant.

Glancing around the small market square, Caleb smiled as he spotted a small store tucked between two larger buildings simply titled _Burt’s Best Books._ He quickly made his way over and ducked inside the small door built for those of smaller stature, Frumpkin clinging tightly to his coat to keep balance. The inside of the bookstore was dusty and somewhat unkempt, with many books sitting in piles on the floor and tables rather than on the bookshelves. 

“Looking for anything in particular?” a young voice called out. Caleb turned to the halfling boy behind the counter, shoving his hands into his coat pockets to keep them from being tempted. He gave a shaky smile.

“Yes, ah...do you happen to have any books on—on the arcane?”

The boy shrugged. “I can check,” he said, reaching for a large tome on the counter-top and beginning to flip through, muttering to himself.

Caleb busied himself with scanning the titles on the shelf closest to him, reaching up an idle hand to stroke Frumpkin’s fur. There were history books, story books, books on mathematics… really a very impressive selection for the relatively small town. His other hand fiddled with the measly seven silver and five copper pieces in his pocket. Perhaps he could find something interesting if there were no books on magic, maybe a local history… he’d like to know if anything had been written before on the nature of familiars and the bond they had with their summoners… 

“Alright, so it seems we’ve got a couple magic books in here. I can fetch em’ for you if you like.” 

“Ja… yes, that would be good, thank you.”

The boy left his seat and began hunting through the shelves, grabbing two books and returning to set them down in front of Caleb on the counter. Obviously disinterested, the boy turned back to his own book. “Tell me if you’re interested, then.”

“Thank you,” Caleb said, sliding the books towards himself and looking them over. One was a hefty book titled _The Origin and Integration of the Arcane,_ and Caleb immediately grimaced and set it aside. He wasn’t about to read his old Academy textbook again. 

Picking up the other book, much slimmer in comparison, Caleb felt his curiosity grow as he saw no title inscribed in the dark blue cover. Opening it up, he instantly became excited, flipping through the pages of inscribed spells—relatively low level, but he would take anything he could get his hands on at this point. The book must be someone’s old spellbook, probably picked up and sold after they died without much idea of its true value. It was unimaginable luck that he had come across it here—maybe Frumpkin was his good luck charm. 

“How much for this one?” Caleb asked, holding up the slim spellbook.

Glancing up, the boy nodded and checked the large tome which listed the shop’s supply. “That one will be twenty gold, sir.”

Caleb felt the smile he hadn’t noticed he had fading. In his excitement he had forgotten how little he could actually afford. “Twenty? Ah, but it is so small, surely—surely it is not worth so much?” 

It was worth at least fifty gold.

The boy shrugged. “That’s what the book says. I just work here.”

Grimacing, Caleb set the spellbook down, reluctantly turning to leave. He could never afford something that expensive—not without some means of making money that wouldn’t draw attention to his skills. He would have to move on from the town too quickly to amass any funds, anyway. He felt the wet rasp of Frumpin’s tongue on his ear as the feline began to purr, and allowed himself that measly comfort for a moment, before he was suddenly struck by an idea. He turned back around.

“I think I might still look around some,” he told the boy, nervously rubbing the hems of his coat sleeves between his fingers. After a moment he awkwardly shoved his hands back into his pockets, trying to act natural. This wasn't something he had really done before.

“Anything else you need me to find for you?”

“Nein, I am just looking to browse. Thank you.”

Caleb lifted Frumpkin off his shoulders and set him gently on the ground. “Is it ok if my cat walks in your store? I may be a while, you see, and he likely wants to stretch his legs,” he patted Frumpkin on the head. “Ja, Frumpkin?”

“Maao.”

The boy waves a disinterested hand. “Yeah, yeah. As long as it doesn’t make a mess.”

Breathing out slowly, Caleb makes his way between the shelves, pretending to browse the titles. It is not something that takes much effort, as he is genuinely curious what books there are here. But he has a much more interesting prize in mind. He reached out to Frumpkin over their bond, still new and inexperienced in utilizing their connection.

_Distract him._

Receiving a feeling of affirmation from Frumpkin, Caleb focused on the bookshelves, slowly making his way closer to the counter while staying relatively behind the shelves. His nervousness grew as he heard Frumpkin begin to yowl loudly and start jumping on shelves, knocking books off. As the crashing grew, the boy ran out from behind the counter, trying to pry Frumpkin from where he was clinging hissing to a high shelf.

“Your cat’s gone crazy! Get—ach! It bit me! Get it out of here!” the boy yelled, waving a rag at the yowling Frumpkin.

Seeing his opening, Caleb quickly ran over and snatched the spellbook from where it was still laying on the counter, tucking it into an inner pocket of his coat. His heart was beating double-time, and he shoved his hands into his pockets to hide their nervous shaking.

“I am very sorry, sir,” Caleb said, hurrying over to them before the boy started going at his cat with a broom he had managed to grab. He reached up and scooped the unresisting Frumpkin into his arms, striding quickly for the door while Frumpkin hissed in his arms. “We will be going now—goodbye!”

“Wait, you’re gonna make me clean this—?” the sound of the boys despondent shout got cut out abruptly as the small door slammed shut behind Caleb. Running high on adrenaline, Caleb speed walked through the streets and into alleys, putting as much distance between himself and the shop as he could. Ducking into a small alcove hidden behind a slightly lopsided building, he finally allowed himself to stop and breathe, dropping down against the stone wall and setting Frumpkin in his lap. 

“We make a good team, ja?” Caleb gave Frumpkin a snuggle as Frumpkin flopped on his side and began purring, stretching out his paws and flexing the claws. “Let’s see what we got.”

Pulling the spellbook out of his coat, Caleb began carefully inspecting the arcane script inside. There were many useful spells inside— _disguise self_ in particular would come in handy. _Alarm_ as well, he would just need to find some silver thread…

Caleb fished out his battered spellbook, a repurposed leather journal with mostly loose pages of spell paper, and began to carefully copy over the spells with the last of his high quality ink, using Frumpkin’s side as a makeshift desk. The cat stayed obediently still—though an impression of amusement filtered into Caleb’s mind as he worked.

Staying up late into the night to work under the soft glow of one of his _dancing lights,_ Caleb managed to finish copying over two of the spells before he tucked his books and ink away and curled up with Frumpkin to rest, pressing his back against the cold stone wall. The soft, warm presence and the gentle breathing of his familiar against his side eventually lulled him to sleep.

* * *

Startling awake with a shuddering gasp, Caleb lay frozen on the slightly damp earth, feeling the air freeze in his lungs. For a moment he couldn’t breathe, racked by a lingering fear, and then the air explosively left his lungs as a rough tongue scraped across his eye. He lay there gasping quietly for a while, brought back to the present by the scratching of a tongue on his face and the sound of a loud rumbling purr. 

Blinking rapidly, he focused on the bright yellow eyes of Frumpkin, who sat back and regarded him for a moment before leaning forward to rub his face against the rough stubble on Caleb’s cheek and chin. 

Caleb pulled Frumpkin close with a shaky arm, hugging him close to his neck and burying his face in his soft fur. Slowly, Caleb felt himself calming down to the sound of Frumpkin’s purrs. Pulling himself into a seated position, he held Frumpkin in his lap and stared at him silently.

Frumpkin blinked, and Caleb felt a faint sense of reassurance through their telepathic link. “Mrrow.”

Caleb let out an unsteady laugh, petting him gently. “You are a very sweet cat. You do not have to do such things for me, you know. It is not part of our pact as wizard and familiar.” _And it is not deserved._

Frumpkin simply stretched out contentedly in his lap in response.

Sighing, Caleb nudged him out of his lap, stood up and shuffled to the edge of the alleyway, glancing down the street. The sun was only just beginning to rise, so only a few of the townspeople were up and about, setting to their daily chores. Turning back to Frumpkin, Caleb bent down to scoop him up and drape him across his shoulders. 

Caleb ducked out of the alley, making his way down the street towards the town’s exit. He still had enough rations to last him a few days, and from what he could recall, a small village lay down the road about three days away. He should be able to make it without too much worry, and he had already stayed in this town for too long. His theft last night only made it more pertinent to leave as soon as possible.

There was only one guard by the town exit when Caleb approached, ducking his head and shoving his hands into his pockets. The guard gave him a narrow-eyed look, but said nothing as Caleb passed him along the beaten dirt path. Caleb walked along the road for a few miles, and then ducked into the nearby forest, keeping the direction of the road fixed in his mind as he navigated the trees where it was safer.

Frumpkin grew restless after a few hours of walking, standing up on Caleb’s shoulders and meowing to be let down. Caleb, with some reluctance, lowered him onto the forest floor, letting him make his way alongside. Frumpkin soon became bored of this activity as well, however, and turned to wander off into the forest away from Caleb.

“Ah, Frumpkin? Where are you going?” Caleb asked somewhat nervously as Frumpkin disappeared into the underbrush. There was a twinge of reassurance and annoyance from the bond, but Frumpkin of course did not respond with words.

Standing in place somewhat stupidly, Caleb searched around for his cat before it became evident that Frumpkin was no longer nearby. He started walking again, feeling uneasy without Frumpkin there. Had he had enough of Caleb, and decided to leave? Perhaps after his weakness that morning the fey had decided he no longer wanted to be the wizard’s familiar?

Caleb attempted to reach out to Frumpkin through whatever connection they seemed to have, not really sure what he was doing and feeling a bit silly for it. He projected a questioning feeling at Frumpkin. _Where are you going?_ The same feeling of reassurance from earlier came back through the bond, though the annoyance was stronger. Perhaps Frumpkin just needed some time to himself, like most cats. Or maybe this happiness was never meant to last. Maybe he was leaving Caleb.

Caleb snapped his fingers and summoned Frumpkin to the ground in front of him, feeling a wave of relief when the cat immediately appeared. Frumpkin was not so happy, meowing at him and flicking his tail in annoyance. 

“I am sorry, Frumpkin, but where—where were you going?”

Frumpkin shot him an unimpressed look, and then suddenly Caleb’s mind was flooded with images. Snatches of forest terrain, low to the ground as if from the eyes of a cat, with the field of vision slightly skewed. A squirrel chittering ahead, its tail to him, as he slowly crept up to it before suddenly being whisked away. The feeling of annoyance pressed at Caleb through the bond.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Caleb gave a small self-deprecating and somewhat relieved chuckle. “I should have expected. I’m sorry Frumpkin, to have ruined your hunt.” He bent down to pat the cat’s head and the cat bore it with a disgruntled meow. “You will be careful?”

“Mao.” Frumpkin sent him the feelings of reassurance again, and turned to stalk back into the woods, his tail twitching. Caleb watched him go, feeling a bit foolish for his worry, but still relieved. As he continued walking, he found himself often reaching out to Frumpkin, relieved to feel the comforting reassurance indicating that he was heard each time.

He was a bit lonely now, though, he pondered as the hours passed and the sun began to set (what he deserved). He had gotten used to Frumpkin’s constant presence very quickly, and now found himself missing it as he curled up against the shelter of a tree for the night, pulling his ratty coat tighter around himself. Remembering the images Frumpkin has sent him, Caleb thought to try the main ability of the spell _find familiar_ _—_ the ability to see and hear through your familiar (the entire _reason_ for casting the spell, _why hadn’t he done it yet_ ). He closed his eyes and reached out toward Frumpkin again, trying to concentrate on the thread of magic connecting them and will it to this purpose.

After a brief acknowledgement from Frumpkin, the cat’s senses slowly connected with Caleb’s, allowing him to watch as the cat wandered around the slowly darkening woods. The sound of small creatures rusting through the undergrowth, birds chirping, and insects buzzing filled his ears, at a louder volume than he would normally hear them. The sound of footsteps crackling the fallen leaves and thudding into the ground nearby. 

Body tensing, Caleb told Frumpkin to hide and observe what was making the noise. Slinking into the cloaking leaves of a clump of fern, Frumpkin peered out at the men stomping by. Two sets of mud caked boots came into the cat’s view. He was unable to make out any details, but the men looked armed. It was possible—perhaps they were looking for Caleb? Had that guard at the town recognized him somehow?

Caleb summoned Frumpkin back to him as soon as the unknown men were out of the cat’s vision. Breathing quickly, he gathered the cat in his arms and surged to his feet, walking quickly through the trees to put as much distance between them and him as possible. He stumbled through the underbrush, forcing one foot in front of the other even as exhaustion numbed his limbs, and the forest gradually gave way to fields of tall grass.

He was still walking when the sun began to rise.


	2. Frumpkin gives the best kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb and Frumpkin begin their adventure together.

Traveling with Frumpkin was good. The cat spent much of his time draped around Caleb’s neck, providing company and warmth. A wet nose would occasionally touch Caleb’s cheek as he walked, and Caleb would press his face into the cat’s fur in response. 

Caleb would sometimes find himself talking to Frumpkin as he worked his way through the thick grasses covering the hilly region he was currently traversing. Saying things he would have never said out loud in another person’s company, but saying them aloud with only the cat as his audience was almost too easy. It was a largely one-sided conversation, with only the occasional lick or purr in response to his ramblings.

Every once in a while, Frumpkin would disappear into the grasses, leaving Caleb alone. Though it was hard to shake the feeling that he was being abandoned, Caleb grew used to these excursions. He would reach out to the cat over the bond every once in a while, and it became a sort of routine for him to inquire and Frumpkin to respond with feelings of reassurance. 

As he began to stomp some of the grass stalks into a relatively flat surface to bed down for the night, he was aware of Frumpkin returning from his wanderings that day. He turned to the cat as Frumpkin’s tiny form seemed to suddenly come into existence as it emerged through the thick grasses.

Caleb smiled at him. “Hallo, Frumpkin. I was just —” He was cut off by a sudden hiss from Frumpkin, and a flash of warning through the bond. Startled, Caleb backed up a step, staring at Frumpkin in confusion. He soon realized that Frumpkin’s ire was not directed at him, however, as the cat began to creep slowly toward the grasses near the edge of Caleb’s flattened area, ears pressed back and tail twitching.

There was a blur of movement as Frumpkin suddenly pounced on something, which immediately began thrashing around. Caleb saw what looked to be a large snake of some kind lash out at Frumpkin, who jumped back quickly before taking a swipe at it with his claws.

Paling as he recognized the telltale bright markings of a venomous snake native to this region, Caleb tried to get an angle that would allow him to release a firebolt. Frumpkin and the snake were moving too quickly around each other in their duel, however, and he could not get a shot in. Cursing to himself, he realized that a fire in this environment would be a terrible idea, anyway.

Flinching as the snake struck out at Frumpkin blindingly fast, only narrowly missing him, Caleb pressed Frumpkin through the bond to back away. He only received a surge of confidence from the fey cat, who continued his swiping at the angry snake, occasionally clipping it with his claws as he circled it. 

The snake seemed to tire as the battle wore on, Caleb watching warily, and Frumpkin soon managed to catch it on the head after one of its strikes. The cat immediately pounced while it was stunned, biting it just behind the head and shaking it vigorously. The snake went limp in his mouth, and Caleb sensed a thrill of triumph from Frumpkin, who looked up at him proudly with his kill dangling from his jaws.

Caleb let out a breath. “You are quite the little hunter, Frumpkin.”

Frumpkin set down the snake and started licking his paw, preening happily. “Mraa.”

Chuckling softly, Caleb reached out and prodded the limp snake with a boot. It seemed to be dead, but he stomped on its head just in case. Frumpkin watched this with amusement.

Caleb picked up the snake with a thumb and forefinger held an arms length from his body. “Perhaps we can make a meal out of this. I’m not exactly sure how to cook a snake, but I’m sure we can figure it out.” He smiled. “Better than rations anyway, ja?”

* * *

An hour and a clumsily butchered and roasted snake later, Caleb finally laid down for the night. He was exhausted after almost two straight days of walking and sleep claimed him quickly as he laid on the flattened grass and curled an arm around the purring Frumpkin.

He woke in the morning to find that he had rolled onto his back sometime during the night, and Frumpkin had relocated to his chest. Caleb lay still for a while, feeling the warm weight of the cat and watching his tiny chest breathe where he sat in a loaf position, paws tucked neatly underneath his body. It was a peaceful morning, and Caleb nearly dozed off again before he roused himself, carefully shifting the sleeping Frumpkin to his lap and gently petting him.

Frumpkin slowly blinked awake, stretching on his side across Caleb’s lap and purring contentedly. Caleb gave a small smile, and reached out to tickle the cat’s exposed belly. This earned him little paws curling around his wrist as Frumpkin began to playfully wrestle with Caleb’s hand, back paws kicking at his forearm. 

When Frumpkin was satisfied that he had vanquished his foe, he climbed up Caleb’s chest to sit on his shoulders, licking at Caleb’s ear. Caleb stood up, holding a hand up to help balance Frumpkin.

Humming softly to himself, Caleb resumed his trek through the fields, knowing he was somewhat close to the small village he was heading toward. As the sun climbed to its highest point in the sky, he finally began to see the simple wooden buildings he was looking for. Circling around so that he would be entering on the road, Caleb ducked his head and made his way into the village, looking for a tavern or inn. He drew a few looks from the villagers, and he guessed that they didn’t get travelers here too often.

Thankfully the few Crownsguard he saw did not seem very interested in him. Spotting an inn sporting a large carved sign depicting a tankard, Caleb hurried inside, glad to be out of their sight regardless.

Frumpkin lifted his head to sniff the air curiously as Caleb made his way over to the bar. At this time of day, the only other patron was an old man cradling a tankard with his face down on one of the roughly sanded tables. A large bearded man, presumably the bartender, sat behind the counter. He was leaning back in a chair with his boots propped on the bar while he whittled away at a block of wood. Scattered wood shaving littered the floor around the chair.

The man stood as Caleb approached, setting his carving to the side and brushing his hands off as he faced Caleb. “Animals aren’t allowed in here, son,” he said in a gravelly voice.

“Ja—ja, yes, of course. Understandable. I will just—just go and put him outside, then.” Caleb hurried back to the door, setting Frumpkin outside the building as he gave a disgruntled meow. 

“Go somewhere where they will not see you disappear, okay?” Caleb said before re-entering the inn, returning to the bartender. The bartender nodded at him and gave him a brief once-over, taking in Caleb’s rather filthy appearance.

“So, what can I get you, traveler?” The man asked, lifting a brow.

Caleb rubbed his palms together awkwardly. “How much is a room?”

“Five silver for a day.”

Caleb fished around in his pockets for the coins, handing them over a bit reluctantly. He wasn’t doing too bad on money at the moment, but he had no reliable means of getting more.

Heading up the creaky stairs to his room, Caleb shut the door before snapping his fingers to summon Frumpkin onto the bed. The cat looked around the room disinterestedly before turning to blink slowly at Caleb. 

Caleb stroked his head, smiling. “Being able to summon you wherever is very useful.” He took off his coat, laying it on the bed next to Frumpkin, and pulled out his spellbook. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he laid his book and the small blue book he had stolen on the tiny end table next to the bed. He began the process of transcribing the last spell in the book.

“I will try to find some work while I am here. It is quite a ways travel to the next village and I will be needing the money for supplies,” he said absently.

“Mrow.”

“Ja, I do not think I will be suitable for any physical laboring. There aren’t many quick jobs that are not that, though.”

Frumpkin padded over to him across the bed and flopped into his lap. “Mrrp.”

“And I have to keep relatively out of sight. You know, most of the time I just sleep in the alleyways or barns of places like these. I thought maybe you might like a nice room, though.”

It took a couple hours to finish transcribing the spell. When he was finished and he had everything put away again, Caleb pulled his coat back on and turned to Frumpkin. “You will have to stay here until I’m out of the building.” 

Frumpkin gave a feeling of affirmation, and Caleb exited the room. The barkeeper barely gave him a glance as he left the building, and as soon as he found a relatively secluded spot he summoned Frumpkin back to him.

“Let’s see what we can find.”

* * *

The village had a few shops that Caleb managed to get some basic components from—a bit of soot and salt, as well as some eyeliner that would do in a pinch for a  _ friends _ spell. That one had gotten him a strange look. 

It wasn’t very likely he would come across any silver thread in the places he was traveling, and there was no chance of him ever getting an expensive enough diamond to cast  _ chromatic orb, _ but Caleb made sure to keep an eye out just in case.

His efforts looking for a way to make some money didn’t turn up anything, the villagers regarding him with suspicion. There honestly wasn’t much he would be good for anyway in a place like this. When he finally returned to the inn, making sure to keep Frumpkin out of sight, he indulged himself with a mug of ale. The barkeep handed it to him with a scrutinizing look, and Caleb quickly retreated to a table tucked mostly out of sight. Gradually, the inn began to fill with people eager to relax after a day’s work.

Nursing his drink, Caleb watched the inn’s patrons as they came and went. One of the Crownsguard had entered and sat down at a table with a group of strong and weathered men, likely farmers. Caleb made sure to keep an eye on him as he grew boisterously drunk with his friends, who had started to throw darts at a crudely painted target on the wall.

He was startled out of his brooding by a large hand tapping the table next to him. Looking up, he saw the bearded face of the bartender looking at him with an unreadable expression. 

“Um, hallo,” Caleb said, tensing. 

“Hey. I heard from a fellow that you’ve been asking around for some work,” the barkeep said, leaning a hip against the table. Caleb was very aware of the way the man loomed above him. “Since you’re staying here, why not do a bit of work for me? Could use a hand tidying the place.”

The man nodded toward where the Crownsguard and his friends had begun drunkenly dancing with each other. They were still holding their tankards, causing alcohol to spatter onto the floor. Caleb grimaced. 

“If—if you are offering, I would be glad for the money. How much would I be making?”

The man seemed to consider, tapping a finger against his crossed arms. “Five copper a day if you do a good job. No need to be serving anyone, just cleaning up after them. And you’ll be able to stay in your room without paying. What do you say?”

Five copper was a pretty good offer for a job like that. Caleb had known good people paid less for harder jobs. The offer of free lodging was almost too good to be true. And it was something he could do while staying relatively out of sight.

He nodded. “All right. Do I—should I start now?”

The man chuckled. “Hold on just a second, son. I’ll be needing your name if you’ll be working for me. Mine’s Arne.”

“Ah, mine is—it’s, um, Jacob.”

Arne grinned. “Good to meet you, Jacob. You don’t have to start now, you can wait till the place’s cleared out a bit if you want.”

The man seemed friendly enough. He must own the inn if he was out hiring, not just tend the bar. Caleb was a bit uneasy with the way the man looked at him, though—as if he could see everything that Caleb was trying to hide. Most people didn’t look too closely at a filthy vagabond passing through.

“Thank you,” Caleb said, shifting his hands back and forth where they were wrapped around his mug, “I think I will do that.”

Arne pushed off from the table and turned to head back to the bar. “Pleasure doing business.” Caleb stared into his drink as he left, contemplating this turn of events. It was very lucky—almost suspiciously so, that Arne had offered him such a good deal just when he was needing the coin. He knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he also had survived this long by being cautious.

By the time the inn had mostly emptied and Caleb had done his best to clean the floor, the sun had long set and Caleb was longing to return to the privacy of his room and the comforting presence of Frumpkin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently eating snakes makes your mercury levels rise. The more you know I guess.
> 
> Even if I can't think of things to write, I can always write Caleb snuggling his cat. :3  
> Nott will probably show up in a couple chapters, if things go well. For now it's just the kitty cat :)


	3. Awkwardness is awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb adjusts to his new job. Anxiety awaits.

A few days passed without any incident, and Caleb found himself slowly relaxing. He spent most of his time in his room in the inn, studying with Frumpkin. He came down a couple times a day to clean the main floor, and sometimes enjoyed a drink.

What he had realized after being here a few days, was that the inn was a _mess._ Not only was there a layer of caked grime and dust on the floor which he had spent much of his time stripping, but the tables were basically falling apart, the floorboards were warped, and the walls were filled with holes and covered in flaking paint. There didn’t seem to be anyone working at the place other than him and Arne. Mugs and plates were left out on tables, casks were left empty instead of being replaced, and oftentimes Arne would disappear into the back room, leaving disgruntled townsfolk without their drinks. They seemed to be somewhat used to it and not too angry, at least.

As he swept wood shavings off the floor behind the bar (he knew they would be back in a matter of hours), there was a faint thump and rattle from the door to the back room. Pausing his motions with the broom, Caleb turned toward the door as it opened, revealing a flush-faced Arne staggering out into the room. A bottle of beer hung from his hand.

Seeming to realize Caleb’s presence, Arne stumbled over to the bar, slumping in one of the seats and thunking his bottle on the wood. “Kid. Hey,” he said, a hint of a slur pulling at his words, “Have a drink with me.” He patted the stool next to him.

Caleb stared at him uncertainly. Arne had not really said much to him in the short time of his employment, and he had been under the impression that the man didn’t care much about what he did one way or the other. When Caleb was cleaning, Arne was usually carving wood behind the bar or tucked away in the side room.

A frown began to pull at Arne’s mouth. “Well, c’mon then,” he said, impatiently pulling over a dirty tankard left on the bar that Caleb hadn’t gotten around to cleaning yet, and pouring a generous amount of beer in it. He then slid it over to his left and thumped the seat again. “I haven’t got all day.”

Leaning the broom against the wall, Caleb shuffled his way around the bar and tentatively took a seat next to Arne. He wasn’t sure what the large man could want from sharing a drink with him, but Caleb knew better than to slight the man giving him a job and a place to live.

Taking the beer, Caleb lifted it to his mouth and took a small sip, fixing his gaze on the sticky bar. Arne took a large swig from the bottle, turning to face him.

“How’s the job treating ya, Jacob? Any, eeh, complaints?”

“No,” Caleb said, turning his tankard back and forth to give himself something to focus on, “I am, um, very grateful. For the job.” He scratched at his beard. It was starting to get pretty long.

Arne chuckled. “That’s good, that’s good.” He seemed to ponder something for a moment, tapping a dirty fingernail on the glass of the bottle. “The place is looking a lot better with you working here.”

“Ja, well, I try my best,” Caleb replied, giving a forced chuckle. They lapsed into silence. Arne began drumming the fingers of his unoccupied hand on the bar, staring contemplating at the bottle. Caleb shifted in his seat.

“I, ah,” Caleb muttered, rising. The innkeep startled, seeming to remember his presence and turning toward him with an inquisitive sound, “I had better finish up. With the, ah, the cleaning.” Arne nodded, waving a hand and slumping back over his drink. He was silent as Caleb hurried to finish the cleaning and then made his way upstairs and to his room. 

Closing the door behind him, Caleb sighed with relief. Frumpkin was stretched out lazily over his pillow, and briefly opened his eyes to observe him before closing them again. Caleb slumped onto the bed beside him, pulling him into his lap. He ignored the cat’s slight disgruntlement, sighing.

“Did you have a good day, Frumpkin?”

The cat stared at him indifferently. 

“Ja, not very eventful, I know. We will be back on the road soon, if that is more your style.”

Frumpkin looked around the room before turning back to Caleb and closing his eyes, beginning to purr. A feeling of contentment came through the bond. Caleb scratched behind his ears gently.

“You like it here, then? I am sorry, I will not be able to guarantee us such comfort often,” Caleb said, frowning. He felt like he had an obligation to Frumpkin, having drug him into the material plane, to make sure he was at least comfortable. Caleb’s current lifestyle could hardly be called luxurious, but he would do what he could. He was already calculating how much money he could save for lodgings versus what he needed for food and traveling supplies…

Faint exasperation pushed through the bond. Caleb raised a brow and sent an inquiry back, like the call-and-response he and Frumpkin had established on their travels. Images suddenly appeared in his head, from a cat’s perspective. There was Caleb’s own face smiling as he pet the cat in an alleyway, A view from up high as Frumpkin rode on Caleb’s shoulders as they walked, Frumpkin purring in his lap as he copied spells. A wash of that same feeling of contentment accompanied the images. And then Frumpkin in the inn room alone, sitting on the bed in a warm sunbeam, utterly bored. Caleb blinked rapidly as his vision faded back to normal, staring down at the purring cat in his lap.

“So, you do not like being cooped up in here? Even though it is comfortable?” He felt like he was getting mixed messages here.

Frumpkin stood up in his lap and gave him a look that made it clear he thought Caleb was as dense as a pile of rocks. The exasperated feeling was back, and the cat began to aggressively headbut his hands and chin, purring loudly.

“What, what? Do you like it here or not?” Caleb was completely confused.

* * *

Caleb scrubbed vigorously at a stain on the table. It was slowly coming off, but that might be because he had been stripping away some of the wood underneath it with his violent cleaning. The inn was empty at the moment, except for Arne, who was doing his customary wood carving behind the bar with his feet kicked up. 

The stain glared up at Caleb. It was a reddish-brown in color, with uneven edges. It lay just off-center from the middle of the table, and seemed to spit in the face of symmetry and all that was good in the world. Caleb narrowed his eyes at it. He had been attempting to get rid of it for almost five minutes now, and he was starting to think that a scorch mark would suit the table nicely instead.

“Hey, Jacob,” Arne called out, not looking up from his carving, “What did you do with that cat of yours?”

Caleb glanced over at him, gripping the washcloth tightly. “Ah, he… he is outside,” he said. Arne hummed noncommittally. Caleb turned back to the table, scrubbing a bit less harshly. “I go out sometimes, and, um, feed him.”

“What’s his name?”

“What?” 

“Your cat, what’s his name?” Arne set aside his wood and knife and leaned forward, the front legs of his chair thumping back onto the floor. 

“Um, it’s—it’s Frumpkin.”

Arne chuckled. “That’s a cute name.” Caleb nodded silently, and the conversation awkwardly seemed to die. He decided to give up on the stain for now, wanting to flee back to his room as he usually did when Arne decided to suddenly start making small talk. Caleb didn’t know what exactly the man wanted from him, but in the past few days Arne had made multiple attempts to initiate conversation. Maybe he was angling for something, and Caleb would just have to wait until his true motives became clear. Or maybe Caleb should just leave now, before anything could go wrong.

After putting away the washcloth, Caleb turned and began making his way toward the stairs. Just as he was beginning to ascend them, Arne’s voice called out, “How long have you had him? Uh, Frumpkin, I mean.” Caleb closed his eyes, sighing quietly. He turned back toward the innkeep.

“I have been with him for just a few weeks.”

Arne nodded. “He seemed to like you quite a lot.” He began drumming his fingers on the counter absently. Caleb took another step up the stairs.

“I will be, ah, going to bed. Now.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Caleb hurried up the rest of the stairs and into his room, shutting the door and immediately face planting into the bed beside Frumpkin. He groaned. “I do not understand people, Frumpkin.”

Frumpkin meowed in agreement and stepped onto Caleb’s back, reaching down to chew on his hair. 

“Ugh. I do not understand cats, either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof awkward small talk is so uncomfortable. I would know, that's what 90% of my conversations consist of. People make no sense!!
> 
> I think I just need to be ok with posting shorter chapters, or else they will never be posted lol. Here is a short one. This story makes no sense and has no clear direction so far. Once canon is reached it should hopefully become easier.
> 
> There will be a time skip at some point so that Caleb can meet Nott.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic writing attempt. I hope it's okay! Comments and feedback are appreciated XD  
> I just needed more Mighty Nein friendship fics that included Frumpkin as an equal.


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